


Next Season on Supernatural...

by Anulap



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:04:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2079657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anulap/pseuds/Anulap
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean discovers drawbacks to life as a demon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next Season on Supernatural...

**Author's Note:**

> I've been pondering this issue since season 1. If a scene like this isn't in the next season, I'm going to be sorely disappointed.

"Mmmmm, yeah baby!" Dean moaned happily as he dove into a Double El Rancho Bacon Deluxe with cheese. "God I've missed this."

He scarfed half the burger in one sitting, then leaned back and reached for his beer. Sighing contentedly, he took a few long swigs of the cheap lager before tucking back into his meal. He grabbed a steak fry and shoved it into his mouth. Suddenly, he felt searing agony inside his mouth, little lines of fire scorching the soft tissues as visions of every horrible thing he'd ever done swam into his vision. Spitting out the half chewed fry, he coughed and choked as he rinsed the pain out with some blessedly cool beer.

"What the hell? Who sabotaged my combo!?"

"I was afraid this day would come," said a gravelly voice from the shadows.

"Crowley?" Dean squinted at the corner. "Did you screw with my combo? You sonofa--"

"Dean, my boy, don't get murderous yet," Crowley held up his hands in mock surrender. "No one sabotaged your poor dining habits."

"Then why did my steak fry taste like pain and sorrow?"

Crowley pointed to the fries. "You dimwit, there's salt on them."

Dean gave Crowley a hard look, shifting his gaze back and forth between him and the fries. "You're kidding me."

"Sadly, no. You know how salt affects us demons."

"So that means we can't eat salt?" Dean crossed his arms and glared at Crowley.

"'Fraid not."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

"Don't blame us, we are not the ones who made the rules. Salt burns demons. Junk food has salt. You think that was the jalapeños on your burger giving you a spicy kick?" Crowley flicked a limp slice of hot pepper at Dean.

Dean flopped back into his chair with a sob. "I can't live like this. What have you done to me!?"

Crowley moved towards Dean, putting an arm around his shoulder in comfort. "There, there. Just think of it as having a special diet. There's ways you can manage it." He placed a small velvet bag on the table in front of Dean, the top closed tight with a glittering gold drawstring. "It's not the same, but use this instead and I guarantee you can continue to eat all the fetid shoe scrapings any back-alley diner throws at you."

Crowley vanished soundlessly as Dean reached for the drawstring.

"No, not that. Anything but that," he stared horrified, as he dumped the contents on his table. "I'm going to kill you for this, Crowley, I swear it!"

Dean's fist clenched around the First Blade as Crowley's echoing laughter swelled and faded in the distance, and a bottle of Mrs. Dash salt-free & MSG-free seasoning slowly rolled to a stop against the carryout salt packets.


End file.
